


(oh darling) forgetting you is a new kind of suffering

by clrrkegriffin



Series: Time Jump oneshots [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bellarke, F/M, during the 4x13 time jump, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 15:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clrrkegriffin/pseuds/clrrkegriffin
Summary: Forgetting someone is just something that happens with time. But Clarke isn't ready to forget.





	(oh darling) forgetting you is a new kind of suffering

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I need to make a quick note, the "Time Jump oneshot" series is NOT coherent nor chronological. And sometimes it'll even be contradictory to some of the things I sort in here. Mostly, this is just a way for me to organize all my headcanon fics about the time jump into one place, with no connection between the different works. Thanks!

Peace, hope, and comfort. All of which she could find in the short darkness of the night.

And like every night before, it’s ripped from her hands.

For the second time that night Clarke woke up in a bed soaked with her own sweat. And in no time at all she crumpled back into her own tears.

It wasn’t a bad dream. And these days the nights that drifted by without those she considered miracles. But now the real nightmare was kept for when she was awake.

Because he wasn’t with her.

In her dreams he was always there. Sometimes they’d talk. Other’s they’d be in the rover together. But more often than not they were both still. Simply holding each other for the duration of the night. And those times were the ones she looked forward to. Where she could cling onto him like he was still on the ground.

But reality was so much worse. In reality he was gone. Quite literally no longer on this earth. And she didn’t even know if he was alive.

She managed to sneak small gasps between the sobs that usually suffocated her. But after months of it now, she had learned how to get air into her lung while her chest would convulse. A kind of sick dance she had perfected between her body struggling to perform a basic purpose while her heart violently mourned in protest.

And through the work that was breathing she came to the horrific discovery that she had been forcing herself to ignore:

She could no longer remember Bellamy Blake’s face.

Where she had tried to burn his image into her mind the moment she knew she wouldn’t make it back to the rocket, it had slowly but surely faded in the past months. And the sudden horror that she’d never see him again, not even in her memories, sent her down a new path of grief.

She had forced herself to deny the oncoming realization as it began to set in. Refusing the possibility of her being able to ever forget his face.

But here she sat, tears wetting the sheets that she held to her eyes, as she tried desperately to reach any detail at all. Any of the many freckles that scattered across his nose. Or maybe the way that the sunlight sometimes caught his eye to make him appear on the verge of crying. Perhaps the curl of his dark hair.

But nothing.

And she resorted to the one thing she thought she’d never need.

The moment she could move without aching she was off the bed, sprinting to the lab where she had last left her journal.

She skipped to the page she never thought she’d ever look at. She knew exactly where it was, but never did she think she’d ever need to remind herself of what he looked like without her own memories.

The moment the page flipped open her heart slowed. The sight of it bringing immediate calm to her never-ending storm.

She let her fingers softly graze the page she had vowed to never use so long ago, tracing the dark lines of his face.

She had sketched all of her friends soon after they had left, and had already visited the rest of them weeks ago. Raven, Monty, Harper, Murphy, Emori, even Echo.

But it was Bellamy she looked at now. And in that moment, though still distraught that she had failed to commit his face to memory, she was looking at him now. And that was all that mattered. Forgotten was the uncertainty of his survival. Because as long as she had this, she had him.

And she would always have Bellamy Blake.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr @clarkewaited


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